<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>hit the setting sun by thelostcolony</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349052">hit the setting sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelostcolony/pseuds/thelostcolony'>thelostcolony</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post Series, Zuko just likes serving tea ok? leave him alone, Zuko really sees this ten year old again and goes Is Adoption Still On The Table? Yes? Good, not comic compliant, this was a tiktok request regarding Lee &amp; his family &amp; Zuko getting closure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:28:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelostcolony/pseuds/thelostcolony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko was fourth in line for the throne. He's hardly had adequate training to prepare him for running a country, much less preside over that country's issues. His skills lie elsewhere, and they mean everything to him.</p><p>He wants them to mean something to someone else, too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee &amp; Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>308</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hit the setting sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=that+guy+from+tiktok">that guy from tiktok</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>me? spending all day writing this on my phone instead of doing my schoolwork for the week? more likely than u think<br/>pls enjoy and also tiktok guy u BETTER leave me a comment don't think ur gettin away clean 😤<br/>the title was taken from a song called "white daisy passing" by rocky votolato, it's got a very mellow, almost melancholy air and I felt like it was very appropriate for zuko<br/>also fair warning i didn't beta this we die like lu ten<br/>ok enjoy yeeha<br/>-ro</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He's smiling as he wipes down the tables. </p><p>Once, not even very long ago, this place was everything Zuko hated - about himself, his uncle, his lot in life. He despised the patrons, detested serving, and most of all, disgusted himself with how easily he let go of what he thought was his destiny.</p><p>This place had represented everything wrong in Zuko's life. Everything he wished his life wasn't. </p><p>But now, he relishes in the simplicity of sweeping the floors, clearing away dishes, and swabbing countertops. It's a balm to his hands, stiff from the strokes of his calligraphy brush, and to his head, aching with how complicated everything has become. Zuko was fourth in line for the throne, and banished at thirteen to boot; he's hardly been adequately prepared to consult on issues of state, much less preside over them directly. He doesn't have the knowledge or the experience to expertly deal with them.</p><p>What skills he does have rest in navigating the stars by the shape of his hands. Of tracking the sun as it creeps across the sky, a sailor's trick. He can polish his swords until they shine, and tie a seaman's knot, and fight with his fists. He can haggle at markets, barter his work for goods, tell when storms are approaching, and dance with dragons. None of these skills appease the councilmen at his court, but to Zuko, they mean everything.</p><p>They mean the simple act of wiping down a tabletop is well worn and familiar, soothing instead of shameful. They mean humility instead of humiliation. They mean escaping the weight of the world on his shoulders, replacing it with the weight of clean dishes as he puts them on their proper shelves.</p><p>The brilliant thing about having led a completely separate life from that of <em> The Firelord </em> is that no one recognizes him. At least, not as <em> Zuko</em>; many patrons throughout the day had brightened when they'd seen him, greeting him cordially as Lee, expressing gladness that he was alright. <em> Your uncle explained you took ill, </em> they said. <em> Good to see you on your feet again, </em> they said. <em> Can I have the Jasmine Special? </em> they said, and that was that.</p><p>It's pleasant to be seen as a person. Zuko had spent so long believing it was demeaning, but now he's just pleased that no one's thrown themselves at his feet all day. The only time someone came close was when one bold young lady had said, "doesn't the new Firelord have the same scar?" like she'd prostrate herself then and there.</p><p>Zuko, for all his awkwardness, had simply blinked and replied, "no, his scar's on the other side," and she'd just as happily accepted his answer and gone back to her tea. </p><p>Like he said. It was pleasant.</p><p>The bin of dirty dishes balanced on his hip, Zuko's just collecting the last few cups when he hears the bell above the door ring.</p><p>"We're closed," he calls as he shoulders open the door to the kitchen. "But we open bright and early tomorrow - "</p><p>"Um," says a small voice, and Zuko freezes, shoulder still jammed against the doorframe. "Um, Mister Firelord?"</p><p>Zuko takes a deep breath, and turns.</p><p>He's much taller than when last they met - a growth spurt's hit. Even so, he's hunched his shoulders up around his ears and ducked his head, wild mop of hair untamed as ever. He doesn't meet Zuko's eyes, hands wringing in front of him. His pants are too short for him now, ankles exposed.</p><p>He's someone Zuko had never thought he'd see again.</p><p>Fire ferrets erupt in his stomach, and a wave of nausea hits him so fast that he has to stop himself from swaying on the spot. He counts his breaths. He tries to swallow, but his throat is dry. "Hello, Lee."</p><p>Lee twitches. The shop stretches between them, a living chasm. Lee's parents linger just outside in the street, barely silhouettes in the fading light. </p><p>Zuko waits, but Lee doesn't offer anything further. The bin on his hip is starting to dig in, and he has to at least put them in the sink before he goes, and Uncle trusted him to close up tonight. But Uncle also wouldn't approve of Zuko abandoning his guests to complete the shop chores, would he? </p><p>What <em> would </em> Uncle do?</p><p>Zuko shifts his weight. "Wait here," he says when the silence has stretched too long. "I'll just - I'll be a second. Wait here."</p><p>Then he sweeps into the kitchen, deposits the dishes beside the sink, and rubs his palms over his face. His heart is pounding a staccato rhythm against his ribcage, aching with every irregular beat. He doesn't - he's not - <em> fuck</em>, can't he just have <em> one good day? </em></p><p>His hands drop to the kettle on the stove. It's full of water waiting to be boiled, and Zuko goes through the motions of lighting the flame below it, adjusting the temperature, and fetching the teabags. He doesn't think. He doesn't want to think. He just goes through the routine, comfortingly mundane, hanging the teabags over the edge of the cups and steeping them.</p><p>When he exits the kitchen, his heart is calmer, and he's holding two cups of fresh jasmine tea. Lee is right where Zuko'd left him, unmoved, eyes still trained on the ground. The discomfort that stirs Zuko at the sight isn't unfamiliar.</p><p>"Lee," he says, and Lee's head jerks up, eyes meeting Zuko's for the first time. Just as quickly, they dart away. "Let's sit."</p><p>"I'll stand," Lee blurts, his hands tightening in his tunic. "I'll - I can stand. Um." He takes a deep breath, summoning courage. "See I'm not - I'm just here to say... I'm sorry."</p><p>Zuko puts the tea down.</p><p>Lee gulps for air. "As a citizen of the Earth Kingdom, I apologize for my words to you, Your Majesty. I never meant to be rude, and - " he makes the flame with his hands, gives a clumsy bow. "I know I don't deserve it, but if you... if you could ever forgive me, I'd - <em> oomph!" </em></p><p>Lee squeaks, but Zuko doesn't let go. He keeps Lee close, swept up against him, and all the tension drains from Lee in an instant. Zuko'd been right: Lee's almost at his chin, now. </p><p>Lee fists in the back of Zuko's shirt, clutching. "How can you forgive me?" he cries, muffled. His face is pressed to Zuko's chest. "After all the things I said to you? After I said I hate you? I thought you'd be - I thought you be so mad at me, Mister."</p><p>And it's here, with Lee tucked against him and crying, that Zuko finally understands. He finally understands why Uncle forgave him, after everything he'd done. He finally understands why he'll never be his father's son.</p><p>Lee, cradled against his chest, is everything Zuko has ever been. And Zuko isn't angry, or hurt, or even upset. He's just relieved. </p><p>"I was never angry with you," Zuko finally says, voice pitched soft. Lee's sobs are a full bodied thing, those of a kid who's never been forced to grow up too quickly. Who's never been told not to cry. "I was never angry, Lee. I was just afraid you'd lost your way." </p><p>Lee clutches closer, clings tighter. Zuko tightens his hug. "I was afraid I'd gone and killed that boy who'd thrown eggs at bullies instead of fighting them," he admits to the top of Lee's head. "I was afraid I'd destroyed the kindness he showed a stranger, just because that stranger didn't molerat him out. I was afraid I'd taken your trust and thrown it in your face."</p><p>Lee shakes his head, face still pressed to the fabric of Zuko's apron. "You didn't," he hiccups. "When you ordered the Fire Nation troops retreat and all the prisoners let go, my brother came home. He said - he said that you'd saved his life, 'cause he was going to be... if you'd waited, he said - and then I told him what I did, and what I said, and he was so mad at me, I thought you'd be mad too -"</p><p>"I'm not," Zuko promises as Lee buries his face again. "I'm glad your brother came home."</p><p>Lee chokes on a sob. "I wish you'd stayed. I don' hate you, I was just - I was sad, I was sad 'cause you weren't him and you were leaving an' I'm so, <em>so</em> <em>sorry</em>..."</p><p>"It's okay," Zuko says, and cups the back of Lee's head. Lee burbles on another sob, so Zuko smooths down the hair there, and when that's well received does it again, and again. "It's okay. I know. I know. I forgive you, Lee, I was never angry with you. It's okay."</p><p>It takes a while, but Lee's cries finally taper off, and he extracts himself from Zuko's arms with all the grace a ten year old can muster. "'M okay," he says, and wipes his eyes with his palms. "Yeesh, I'm fine, enough with the mushy stuff."</p><p>Zuko's lips twitch. "Tea?" </p><p>Lee frowns. "It's cold," he points out. Zuko picks up each cup and heats his hands, watching steam curl above the surface of the tea. He watches Lee carefully, but all Lee does is take his cup and say "that was handy!" as he takes a sip.</p><p>Zuko eyes the open door. He can't see them at all because night's completely fallen, but he's sure Lee's parents are out there. "Your mom and dad can come in, you know," Zuko says, and Lee shrugs a little.</p><p>"I told them to wait," he says. "I wanted it to just be us. Y'know, man to man. They tried to come in anyway, but... I didn't give up without a fight." He smiles, teeth showing, and for the first time Zuko notices that some of the gaps have filled in. It makes Zuko's chest ache in a way he can't explain.</p><p>"I'll put up another kettle," Zuko says, and gestures for Lee to sit. "You go get them. Tea's on the house." He doesn't wait for an answer, already halfway to the kitchen.</p><p>"Sensu's here too," Lee calls suddenly, and Zuko pauses, hand on the doorframe. "He... he wanted to see how you moved with your swords. I told him about you."</p><p>Zuko was fourth in line for the throne. He's hardly had adequate training to prepare for running a country, much less preside over that country's issues. His skills lie elsewhere, and they mean everything to him. He wants them to mean something to someone else, too.</p><p>"Then go get him," Zuko says, warmth in his chest, and Lee grins and dashes out into the street to do just that.</p><p>Zuko puts up tea. He steeps the teabags, and serves the family that once took him in when he was starving, and in pain, and had lost his way. They hadn't asked for anything in return; not even his name.</p><p>He offers it now. "I'm Zuko," he says.</p><p>Sensu smiles. "Zuko," he says warmly, and Gansu offers his hand to shake, and Sela's eyes are teary, and Lee grins, bright and young and so happy. "I've heard so much about you. It's good to meet you. Heard you're pretty good with swords, huh?"</p><p>There's no mention of his status as Firelord. There's no groveling, no apologies. Just Sensu's warmth, and Lee's childish glee, and Gansu's quiet gratitude, and Sela's soft fingers pressing his palm as she reaches across the table.</p><p>And there, in that quiet peace, Zuko smiles. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>